Practical Religion Part 27

King Ahab was ruler over the ten tribes of Israel. Obadiah was nothing more than a servant in his household. Yet who can doubt which was most precious in G.o.d's sight, the servant or the king?

Ridley and Latimer were deposed from all their dignities, cast into prison as malefactors, and at length burnt at the stake. Bonner and Gardiner, their persecutors, were raised to the highest pitch of ecclesiastical greatness, enjoyed large incomes, and died unmolested in their beds. Yet who can doubt which of the two parties was on the Lord's side?

Baxter, the famous divine, was persecuted with savage malignity, and condemned to a long imprisonment by a most unjust judgment. Jeffreys, the Lord Chief Justice, who sentenced him, was a man of infamous character, without either morality or religion. Baxter was sent to jail and Jeffreys was loaded with honours. Yet who can doubt which was the good man of the two, the Lord Chief Justice or the author of the "Saint's Rest"?

We may be very sure that riches and worldly greatness are no certain marks of G.o.d's favour. They are often, on the contrary, a snare and hindrance to a man's soul. They make him love the world and forget G.o.d.

What says Solomon? "Labour not to be rich." (Prov. xxiii. 4.) What says St. Paul? "They that _will_ be rich, fall into temptation and a snare, and into many foolish and hurtful l.u.s.ts, which drown men in destruction and perdition." (1 Tim. vi. 9.)

We may be no less sure that poverty and trial are no certain proof of G.o.d's anger. They are often blessings in disguise. They are always sent in love and wisdom. They often serve to wean man from the world. They teach him to set his affections on things above. They often show the sinner his own heart. They often make the saint fruitful in good works.

What says the book of Job? "Happy is the man whom G.o.d correcteth; therefore despise not thou the chastening of the Almighty." (Job v. 17.) What says St. Paul? "Whom the Lord loveth He chasteneth." (Heb. xii. 6.)

One great secret of happiness in this life is to be of a patient, contented spirit. Strive daily to realize the truth that this life is not the place of reward. The time of retribution and recompense is yet to come. Judge nothing hastily before that time. Remember the words of the wise man: "If thou seest the oppression of the poor, and violent perverting of judgment and justice in a province, marvel not at the matter: for He that is higher than the highest regardeth, and there be higher than they." (Eccles. v. 8.) Yes! there is a day of judgment yet to come. That day shall put all in their right places. At last there shall be seen a mighty difference "between him that serveth G.o.d; and him that serveth Him not." (Malachi iii. 18.) The children of Lazarus and the children of the rich man shall, at length be seen in their true colours, and every one shall receive according to his works.

III. Let us observe, in the next place, how _all cla.s.ses alike come to the grave_.

The rich man in the parable died, and Lazarus died also. Different and divided as they were in their lives, they had both to drink of the same cup at the last. Both went to the house appointed for all living. Both went to that place where rich and poor meet together. Dust they were, and unto dust they returned. (Gen. iii. 19.)

This is the lot of all men. It will be our own, unless the Lord shall first return in glory. After all our scheming, and contriving, and planning, and studying,--after all our inventions, and discoveries, and scientific attainments,--there remains one enemy we cannot conquer and disarm, and that is death. The chapter in Genesis which records the long lives of Methuselah and the rest who lived before the flood, winds up the simple story of each by two expressive words: "he died." And now, after 4,800 years, what more can be said of the greatest among ourselves? The histories of Marlborough, and Washington, and Napoleon, and Wellington, arrive at just the same humbling conclusion. The end of each, after all his greatness is just this,--"he died."

Death is a mighty leveller. He spares none, he waits for none, and stands on no ceremony. He will not tarry till you are ready. He will not be kept out by moats, and doors, and bars, and bolts. The Englishman boasts that his home is his castle, but with all his boasting, he cannot exclude death. An Austrian n.o.bleman forbade death and the smallpox to be named in his presence. But, named or not named, it matters little, in G.o.d's appointed hour death will come.

One man rolls easily along the road in the easiest and handsomest carriage that money can procure. Another toils wearily along the path on foot. Yet both are sure to meet at last in the same home.

One man, like Absalom, has fifty servants to wait upon him and do his bidding. Another has none to lift a finger to do him a service. But both are travelling to a place where they must lie down alone.

One man is the owner of hundreds of thousands. Another has scarce a shilling that he can call his own property. Yet neither one nor the other can carry one farthing with him into the unseen world.

One man is the possessor of half a county. Another has not so much as a garden of herbs. And yet two paces of the vilest earth will be amply sufficient for either of them at the last.

One man pampers his body with every possible delicacy, and clothes it in the richest and softest apparel. Another has scarce enough to eat, and seldom enough to put on. Yet both alike are hurrying on to a day when "ashes to ashes, and dust to dust," shall be proclaimed over them, and fifty years hence none shall be able to say, "This was the rich man's bone, and this the bone of the poor."

I know that these are ancient things. I do not deny it for a moment. I am writing stale old things that all men _know_. But I am also writing things that all men do not _feel_. Oh, no! if they did feel them they would not speak and act as they do.

You wonder sometimes at the tone and language of ministers of the Gospel. You marvel that we press upon you immediate decision. You think us extreme, and extravagant, and ultra in our views, because we urge upon you to close with Christ,--to leave nothing uncertain,--to make sure that you are born again and ready for heaven. You hear, but do not approve. You go away, and say to one another,--"The man means well, but he goes too far."

But do you not see that the reality of death is continually forbidding us to use other language? We see him gradually thinning our congregations. We miss face after face in our a.s.semblies. We know not whose turn may come next. We only know that as the tree falls there it will lie, and that "after death comes the judgment." We _must_ be bold and decided, and uncompromising in our language. We would rather run the risk of offending some, than of losing any. We would aim at the standard set up by old Baxter:--

"I'll preach as though I ne'er should preach again, And as a dying man to dying men!"

We would realize the character given by Charles II. of one of his preachers: "That man preaches as though death was behind his back. When I hear him I cannot go to sleep."

Oh, that men would learn to live as those who may one day die! Truly it is poor work to set our affections on a dying world and its shortlived comforts, and for the sake of an inch of time to lose a glorious immortality! Here we are toiling, and labouring, and wearying ourselves about trifles, and running to and fro like ants upon a heap; and yet after a few years we shall all be gone, and another generation will fill our place. Let us live for eternity. Let us seek a portion that can never be taken from us. And let us never forget John Bunyan's golden rule: "He that would live well, let him make his dying day his company-keeper."

IV. Let us observe, in the next place, _how precious a believer's soul is in the sight of G.o.d_.

The rich man, in the parable, dies and is buried. Perhaps he had a splendid funeral,--a funeral proportioned to his expenditure while he was yet alive. But we hear nothing further of the moment when soul and body were divided. The next thing we hear of is that he is in _h.e.l.l_.

The poor man, in the parable, dies also. What manner of burial he had we know not. A pauper's funeral among ourselves is a melancholy business.

The funeral of Lazarus was probably no better. But this we do know,--that the moment Lazarus dies he is carried by the angels into Abraham's bosom,--carried to a place of rest, where all the faithful are waiting for the resurrection of the just.

There is something to my mind very striking, very touching, and very comforting in this expression of the parable. I ask your especial attention to it. It throws great light on the relation of all sinners of mankind who believe in Christ, to their G.o.d and Father. It shows a little of the care bestowed on the least and lowest of Christ's disciples, by the King of kings.

No man has such friends and attendants as the believer, however little he may think it. Angels rejoice over him in the day that he is born again of the Spirit. Angels minister to him all through life. Angels encamp around him in the wilderness of this world. Angels take charge of his soul in death, and bear it safely home. Yes! vile as he may be in his own eyes, and lowly in his own sight, the very poorest and humblest believer in Jesus is cared for by his Father in heaven, with a care that pa.s.seth knowledge. The Lord has become his Shepherd, and he can "want nothing." (Ps. xxiii. 1.) Only let a man come unfeignedly to Christ, and be joined to Him, and he shall have all the benefits of a covenant ordered in all things and sure.

Is he laden with many sins? Though they be as scarlet they shall be white as snow.

Is his heart hard and p.r.o.ne to evil? A new heart shall be given to him, and a new spirit put in him.

Is he weak and cowardly? He that enabled Peter to confess Christ before his enemies shall make him bold.

Is he ignorant? He that bore with Thomas' slowness shall bear with him, and guide him into all truth.

Is he alone in his position? He that stood by Paul when all men forsook him shall also stand by his side.

Is he in circ.u.mstances of special trial? He that enabled men to be saints in Nero's household shall also enable him to persevere.

The very hairs of his head are all numbered. Nothing can harm him without G.o.d's permission. He that hurteth him, hurteth the apple of G.o.d's eye, and injures a brother and member of Christ Himself.

His trials are all wisely ordered. Satan can only vex him, as he did Job, when G.o.d permits him. No temptation can happen to him above what he is able to bear. All things are working together for his good.

His steps are all ordered from grace to glory. He is kept on earth till he is ripe for heaven, and not one moment longer. The harvest of the Lord must have its appointed proportion of sun and wind, of cold and heat, of rain and storm. And then when the believer's work is done, the angels of G.o.d shall come for him, as they did for Lazarus, and carry him safe home.

Alas! the men of the world little think whom they are despising, when they mock Christ's people. They are mocking those whom angels are not ashamed to attend upon. They are mocking the brethren and sisters of Christ Himself. Little do they consider that these are they for whose sakes the days of tribulation are shortened. These are they by whose intercession kings reign peacefully. Little do they reck that the prayers of men like Lazarus have more weight in the affairs of nations than hosts of armed men.

Believers in Christ, who may possibly read these pages, you little know the full extent of your privileges and possessions. Like children at school, you know not half that your Father is doing for your welfare.

Learn to live by faith more than you have done. Acquaint yourselves with the fulness of the treasure laid up for you in Christ even now. This world, no doubt, must always be a place of trial while we are in the body. But still there are comforts provided for the brethren of Lazarus which many never enjoy.

V. Observe, in the last place, _what a dangerous and soul-ruining sin is the sin of selfishness_.

You have the rich man, in the parable, in a hopeless state. If there was no other picture of a lost soul in h.e.l.l in all the Bible you have it here. You meet him in the beginning, clothed in purple and fine linen.

You part with him at the end, tormented in the everlasting fire.

And yet there is nothing to show that this man was a murderer, or a thief, or an adulterer, or a liar. There is no reason to say that he was an atheist, or an infidel, or a blasphemer. For anything we know, he attended to all the ordinances of the Jewish religion. But we do know that he was lost for ever!

There is something to my mind very solemn in this thought. Here is a man whose outward life in all probability was correct. At all events we know nothing against him. He dresses richly; but then he had money to spend on his apparel. He gives splendid feasts and entertainments; but then he was wealthy, and could well afford it. We read nothing recorded against him that might not be recorded of hundreds and thousands in the present day, who are counted respectable and good sort of people. And yet the end of this man is that he goes to h.e.l.l. Surely this deserves serious attention.

(_a_) I believe it is meant to teach us _to beware of living only for ourselves_. It is not enough that we are able to say, "I live correctly.

I pay every one his due. I discharge all the relations of life with propriety. I attend to all the outward requirements of Christianity."

There remains behind another question, to which the Bible requires an answer. "To whom do you live? to yourself or to Christ? What is the great end, aim, object, and ruling motive in your life?" Let men call the question extreme if they please. For myself, I can find nothing short of this in St. Paul's words: "He died for all, that they which live should not henceforth live unto themselves, but unto Him which died for them and rose again." (2 Cor. v. 15.) And I draw the conclusion, that if, like the rich man, we live only to ourselves, we shall ruin our souls.

(_b_) I believe, further, that this pa.s.sage is meant to teach us _the d.a.m.nable nature of sins of omission_. It does not seem that it was so much the things the rich man did, but the things he left undone, which made him miss heaven. Lazarus was at his gate, and he let him alone. But is not this exactly in keeping with the history of the judgment, in the twenty-fifth of St. Matthew? Nothing is said there of the sins of commission of which the lost are guilty. How runs the charge?--"I was an hungered, and ye gave me no meat: I was thirsty, and ye gave me no drink: I was a stranger, and ye took me not in: naked, and ye clothed me not: sick, and in prison, and ye visited me not." (Matt. xxv. 42, 43.) The charge against them is simply that they did not do certain things.

On this their sentence turns. And I draw the conclusion again, that, except we take heed, sins of omission may ruin our souls. Truly it was a solemn saying of good Archbishop Usher, on his death-bed: "Lord, forgive me all my sins, but specially my sins of omission."

(_c_) I believe, further, that the pa.s.sage is meant to teach us that _riches bring special danger with them_. Yes! riches, which the vast majority of men are always seeking after,--riches for which they spend their lives, and of which they make an idol,--riches entail on their possessors immense spiritual peril! The possession of them has a very hardening effect on the soul. They chill. They freeze. They petrify the inward man. They close the eye to the things of faith. They insensibly produce a tendency to forget G.o.d.

And does not this stand in perfect harmony with all the language of Scripture on the same subject? What says our Lord? "How hardly shall they that have riches enter into the kingdom of G.o.d! It is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle, than for a rich man to enter the kingdom of G.o.d!" (Mark x. 23, 25.) What says St. Paul? "The love of money is the root of all evil; which while some coveted after, they have erred from the faith, and pierced themselves through with many sorrows."